


Heartstrings

by fiendfyre99



Category: Downton Abbey
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Fluff, M/M, Probably ooc, but i tried
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-31
Updated: 2020-12-31
Packaged: 2021-03-10 22:49:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,973
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28461171
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fiendfyre99/pseuds/fiendfyre99
Summary: Soulmate AU, but maybe a little more realistic.
Relationships: Thomas Barrow/Jimmy Kent
Comments: 10
Kudos: 53





	Heartstrings

If someone asked him, Jimmy probably wouldn’t admit to it, but deep down he did believe that soulmates did exist. How could he not, with all the drivel his mum had fed him growing up, about _destiny_ and _fated lovers_ and what not.

He blamed the lack of siblings for having to listen to her as a child- surely that sort of talk was meant for a sweet, young daughter not a boy who had to grow to be a tough, red-blooded man.

Nevertheless, as a naïve child he’d listen to her prattle on about all sorts myths and legends on the subject from all over the world, from the Greeks to the Chinese. But all of them ended the same way (and this was told like a solemn truth)- when you met your soulmate, the “strings” around your heart- that connected it to your invisible soul- would tighten, and a feeling of bliss and completeness would consume your entire being as your soul recognised its twin.

And one day, her little darling Jimmy too would find a girl who would make him feel that way, and would bring him true happiness in life like his father did for her. 

It was said, and widely accepted as truth by many, that it was impossible to find true satisfaction or happiness in life without your soulmate by your side. _But how much of it was actually true?_ Jimmy wondered. The whole concept of soulmates, in Jimmy’s opinion, should stay where it belonged- in poems and fairy tales and such. In the real world, as many knew, the hue and cry around finding one’s soulmate was nothing more than an inconvenience. Most people never even found their _fated one_ , and even if they did, they seldom ended up together for practical reasons. Even the royal family, who loved to declare that their spouses were their soulmates, not-so-discreetly took mistresses and committed adultery. It just proved, Jimmy thought staunchly, that this was another man-made story cooked up by people unable to accept the reality that they might never find someone who truly understood them and loved them for it.

Hence, for such a practical and worldly man, Jimmy truly was ashamed that privately, he could not get over the soppy idea himself. Maybe, Jimmy rationalised, it was because those stories were the only thing he had left of his beloved mother.

But in a part of him that he had repressed since childhood, he knew that it was because he’d experienced it himself.

The tightening heartstrings, the completeness, the bliss. All of it. Exactly like his mother, and everyone else who believed in soulmates, said it would be.

_Jimmy had only been 8 at the time, visiting his aunt and cousins in Manchester sometime near Christmas. It was a time when he still unquestioningly believed every word out of his mother’s mouth, and wished to feel all that his mother had described. They’d been on the High Street, the 5 of them- his mother and aunt browsing inside the shops, while he played with his cousin outside waiting for them to return. The elder of his 2 cousins, 13 at the time, had been “put in charge” of keeping them safe, but he’d just met a few lads from school got chatting. So Jimmy and his cousin played on the footpath, wishing the mothers would hurry up as it got darker and chillier. And that’s when it happened._

_Suddenly, Jimmy’s heart beat faster than it ever had before. He felt like how it felt when he was at home at night, in his favourite pyjamas near the blazing fireplace, curled up in his mother’s lap while she stroked his hair and his father read him a story. The very definition of contentment and happiness. And it all happened when Jimmy chanced a look to an alleyway across him and to the right, at a little glowing light. He felt drawn to the light by an invisible force, like it was calling out to him. He knew this could mean only one thing, and all the stories his mother had told him came rushing into his mind._

_Jimmy had run towards the light before he knew he was doing, and right onto the road. A shout from somewhere snapped him back to reality and he realised he was right on the path of an oncoming carriage. He tried to move out of the way but he was too small, and too late. The carriage crashed into him and he was sent flying, and all he remembered was a sharp pain to the back of his head before he was out cold._

To this day, Jimmy couldn’t ever remember what he saw beyond that light, or if the light itself was a figment of his imagination that his brain came up with to mask the trauma of the events that followed.

The gash from the accident and the subsequent medical procedure had made itself a permanent scar on the side of his head. Like he’d been branded for his foolishness and childish delusions about soulmates. Thankfully, his hair covered it up and Jimmy secretly hoped he’d never go bald.

When he’d woken up after days of being unconscious, he told his mother he’d run across because he’d found his soulmate and his chest felt funny and he saw a little light. His mother had gotten an extremely worried look on her face and never mentioned anything about soulmates to him ever again.

In the years that followed, Jimmy had grown up, and never again felt how he’d felt that day. He started getting attention for his looks, and charm and for knowing how to use them to get what he wanted. He pretty much forgot about the whole incident and buried it deep within his brain. He’d even got so used to saying that he got hit by a carriage when he _accidentally_ went onto the road that, as it often happens with lies, he started to believe it himself.

So why now, lying in his bed in a rented room at the Grantham Arms, was he thinking about that day, and _soulmates_ of all things?

Because the memory he’d convinced himself didn’t happen, hadn’t thought about in close to 16 years, had repeated itself with every minor detail intact in the dream he had just woken from. Right from the cold to the annoying afternoon darkness of the winter to the tightness to the second of sheer _bliss_ he’d felt at the tiny light. There was no explanation or cause for this dream, or any meaning to it really, but it did put Jimmy in a tetchy mood when he woke up.

 _Excellent timing_ , he thought grumpily, _right before the interview for the footman job at Downton House._

Or was it Downton Castle? Best check that before he went.

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

In the end, Jimmy decided to go in towards the afternoon, recovered from the wretched dream and suitably groomed.

As he walked through the corridor into what he assumed must be the servants’ hall, the tight feeling in his chest from the dream returned, and was growing stronger by the minute. Jimmy felt vaguely like he was on the precipice of a steep cliff, a strange anticipation building. He did his best to brush it off, and plastered a smile on his face.

“Hello,” he said.

At that point the feeling had become almost impossible to ignore as he realised, he’d conveniently entered a room nearly full of women.

Well. So his mother was right then. The old wives’ tales were right, then.

She was here. His soulmate, as mad as _that_ sounded.

He automatically began looking to the maids’ faces to check their reactions to seeing him there but it was useless, they all stood there gaping, or giggling, or both.

He was stating his business to one of them, when a tall, dark-haired man entered. He walked to next to him, all the while seeming quite struck by his appearance, like he couldn’t believe Jimmy was there.

“Who’s this?” he asked.

“Jimmy Kent,” Jimmy introduced himself. “At your service.”

_What?_

Well, this was new. He’d never said that before. But honestly, Jimmy was finding it difficult to care, for he felt strangely calm and sated, like in that moment nothing could possibly go wrong.

_Almost like…_

No, it couldn’t be.

It just couldn’t be. Could it?

It couldn’t be the man, who’d just declared himself His Lordship’s valet, was triggering these _feelings_ in him.

No way. There were plenty more women in that room and Jimmy was just worrying himself for no reason. That had to be it. With that reassurance, he got through the interview, accepted the job offered the next day, and moved into his new lodgings.

It happened again when Jimmy was changing into his new livery. His back was turned but he instinctively knew that his _soulmate- or_ whatever that rot was- was at the door. Inwardly, he prayed for some pretty-faced housemaid with dark hair (he did have a thing for brunettes, after all) and hopefully a voluptuous chest. But no, he _heard_ his worst fears confirmed before he _saw._

It was the valet- Mr Barrow- looking awkwardly cheery and making small talk about him getting the job.

Jimmy planned to give short answers and send the man on his way, truly he did, but his stupid mouth decided to take matters into its own hands and sprout some mildly suggestive shite that would no doubt give him trouble later.

 _For God’s sake._ Why, _why_ did it have to be him? Why couldn’t he just have a _normal_ soulmate from the opposite gender, like other people? Jimmy angrily unpacked the rest of his things, frustrated with his own fate.

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

This verbal incontinence continued for quite some time before Jimmy learned to rein it in, but it was far too late. The man had already started taking liberties with him. Touching him, openly flirting (“ _I expect you’re always prepared_ ,” he’d smirked _during dinner_ and _in front of everyone_ ) and being so bloody _obvious_ , he was sure Mr Barrow was saved only by the fact that nobody thought to suspect he was _that way_.

Jimmy sometimes felt like Mr Barrow was so careless, he might as well have confessed his love straight up. Which he then actually did, and Jimmy had seamlessly side stepped and made a hasty exit before he ruined things for himself even further.

But what Jimmy was truly annoyed with, was his own mind and body getting so soppy and out of control whenever these encounters happened. It felt like music on a dreary day or sunshine on a winter afternoon or anything else that stayed for a short time, but made the whole day easier to bear.

When Mr Barrow had stood so close teaching him to wind the clocks, it was the strangest experience Jimmy had had in his life.

Mr Barrow had pressed his shoulder, asking, _“Do you feel a slight increase in the resistance?”_ All Jimmy felt was drunk on the feeling of their closeness and the funny feeling in his heart.

But for the first time that day, Jimmy realised how he himself affected the valet. Mr Barrow had explained in a single breath his association with clocks, when and how to wind them, his personal opinion on them and his family history. Jimmy felt a bit comforted then that he wasn’t the only one with the verbal diarrhoea at least. Perhaps he wasn’t as much the foolish party in this as he thought.

But even while he could not deny his heart tightening with the flooding feeling of _wholeness_ and satisfaction when Mr Barrow touched him, the bile always rose up his throat after he’d left.

It was torturous. Something had to be done- Jimmy certainly wasn’t inclined that way, he was a victim of some divine mistake, been allocated the wrong soulmate, or something like that.

The answer to Jimmy’s problem came in so easily it was like it had solved itself. Mr Barrow snuck into his room, in _the dead of night_ , and kissed him. Jimmy was horrified. He hadn’t expected the man to be so _impulsive,_ an awkward confrontation was more of what he had expected, at most. And Alfred had witnessed the worst of it.

Mr Barrow had made it sound so enticing as well, like Alfred was nothing, everything could be managed, when something so precious and rare had somehow happened to the two of them.

 _“What about all there is between us?”_ he’d asked, and Jimmy was sure that if not for Alfred’s lingering presence by the door, like an anchor and a reminder to his bleak reality, he surely would’ve given in.

But he couldn’t. He wasn’t ready, or brave, or…

Or nothing.

His foolishness had already taught him a lesson as a child, and he wouldn’t throw away a good life, or any life, on some insane, soppy idea of true love or belonging. He wasn’t Mary Kent’s 8-year-old who’d run to his ‘soulmate’ onto the path of a carriage, anymore. The scar on his head taught him something, after all.

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

After that it was only the obvious course of action to take Ms O’Brien’s advice and try to get rid of the man (and the sticky soulmate business) once and for all. But of course, Jimmy’s luck had always been like an inside joke with himself.

Mr Barrow stayed, and Jimmy endured.

By the time a year had passed, Jimmy had learnt to live with his lot in life. He religiously made sure that he avoided Mr Barrow, took subtle (and sometimes not so subtle) jabs at him, and convinced the man that he was alone in his belief that Jimmy was his soulmate.

That he was a born Severed.

The cruellest fate that one could have, when you are not your soulmate’s soulmate. It was the rarest of rare of occurrences, but not unheard of.

Jimmy knew it was harsh, unfair, and above all, cowardly on his part. The man not only had to live with the belief that he was a Severed, but had to also look at and interact with his ‘ _fated one’,_ which made everything much, much worse for him.

It was a life most people would want to end as soon as possible- but not Mr Barrow. Jimmy was frankly shocked at how much the man could endure, and some part of him admired Mr Barrow for it.

And a part of him, which he determinedly ignored most of the time, _ached_ , too.

That was the thing with soulmates, Jimmy knew, that it was a bond of fate itself. It seeked to be completed. And going against that bond was going against nature itself, which slowly destroyed the person from within with an emotional pain akin to losing a limb.

Sometimes Jimmy truly wondered if it was worth it, going through all of this. But he knew that there was no other way for either of them. They could hardly skip off to the church to get married and live the rest of their days in a haze of domesticity.

And after everything, with Thomas being as _obvious_ as he tended to be with Jimmy, he could clearly never be depended upon to be cautious or careful. And in the end, it would be Jimmy all alone again, abandoned, taking care of himself.

Trying to live with half his soul.

That was the punishment for men whose soulmates happened to be other men, and were caught for it. Their bonds were forcibly Severed, and their souls almost always split from the unnatural strain.

Any fate was better than that, in Jimmy’s opinion.

It was rare enough to find your soulmate, and Jimmy felt that he could content himself with that fact alone. And so should Mr Barrow. Even if he believed Jimmy didn’t feel the same. Maybe in a way, they were both cursed. Jimmy for not being brave enough to accept his reality, and Mr Barrow with having a coward for a soulmate.

 _I don’t care of it’s selfish, or even painful,_ Jimmy thought, _if it’s going to be Jimmy contra mundi anyway, I’d rather it be with my soul intact._

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

When the fair at Thirsk came round, Jimmy was eager to have a day off, see the sights and have a pint or two. He thought it was very clever of him asking Mr Tufton to join the rope pull, and his cleverness alone made him deserving of all that cash.

He knew that those men had only made the bet with him because they knew the servants who carried trays and polished silver for a living could never win against the villagers who worked in the mill and chopped wood and what not all day. Jimmy only made it a fair competition, really.

Hence it was wholly unsportsmanlike to corner Jimmy like that under the bridge, when he was clearly inebriated. But any logical argument he might have made if he was sober fell flat when Jimmy felt himself being restrained and the man readying to throw a punch.

And then came Thomas, running headfirst into a fight he could _never_ win and being a bloody hero. For Jimmy.

The events that happened next were blurry at best. Jimmy barely registered running into the fairground, bringing the others to the bridge. Mr Barrow lying there, panting and bruised, surrounded by people and yet looking only at Jimmy as if to say _“I did it for you.”_

Not that Jimmy had asked him to. But thinking that made him feel ungrateful. And even he couldn’t deny that Thomas had willingly injured himself- and got robbed, too- and saved Jimmy’s skin in the process.

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

In the second he stood outside Mr Barrow’s room, Jimmy felt the strangest cocktail of emotions. The guilt, pity, sorrow and frustration at his own fate for being in this situation seemed to outweigh any positive emotion he might have felt from their bond otherwise. Not to mention the _ache_ in his heart, which had seemingly doubled itself in reprimand.

An awkward exchange with the under-butler ensued, ending in what was probably the most obvious way to put their connection in words, it seemed, without actually _saying it_.

 _“You know why.”_ Mr Barrow said.

The phrase rang like a bell in Jimmy’s mind.

Right. Not dancing around it any more, then. The subtlety had to end sometime, he supposed. Might as well finish it off now.

“I could never give you what you want,” he said.

Best to make his position clear outright, lest Thomas got any ideas that his heroics changed anything between them.

“I understand that,” Thomas replied, “I do.”

Jimmy was about to clarify that their being soulmates was a fact best forgotten, they’d be sensible to get on with their lives avoiding it, when Thomas made his request to be _friends._

Friends?

Would that even be possible? It was a strange request at the very least, surely Mr Barrow knew that. He’d never heard of friendship among literal _soulmates_. Unequalled love, maybe. But never _just friendship._

But then, Jimmy was never one to believe in orthodoxy or long-held beliefs for the sake of them, anyway. Always challenging customs and forming his own opinions on the world was what he was all about. And if there was anyone who could show that it could be done, it would be him. If not for himself, he could do it for the poor man he’d dragged into this sodding mess with him.

Alright, Jimmy decided, _friends_ they would be.

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Being Mr Barrow’s friend was like removing his stuffy bowtie at night after a long tiring summer workday. It was so _freeing._ Jimmy talked, laughed and smiled more than he had the whole year. He even felt like he was physically better, fitter, slept better at night and all that, but of course _that_ _couldn’t have anything to do with Mr Barrow obviously._

But the bottom line was that it was something he knew deep down that his heart, or soul, or whatever had waited for, and the _ache_ decreased considerably as well.

Maybe this was it. If he managed to trick his soul into believing that he’d accepted his _destiny,_ the ache would go away altogether! Jimmy had possibly stumbled upon a loophole in fate itself.

He felt quite pleased with himself for some time, until, like a particularly greedy beast, his heart started to want _more._

And more, and more.

And every day, he spent a little more time with Mr Barrow (Thomas, now).

He smoked one extra cigarette even when was cold just to be alone together a bit longer in the courtyard, had one extra cup of afternoon tea even when he was full just to chat a bit longer in the Servants’ Hall, and played another round of cards even when he was about to fall off his chair in exhaustion- just to gossip a bit longer with Thomas.

Just to ease the ache of the _incomplete bond_ , he told himself. He was doing for the other man as well, out of the kindness of his own heart, he reassured himself.

It wasn’t like he liked the affectionate look in Thomas’ eyes when he smiled at Jimmy, or the protruding cheekbones when he sucked on his cigarette, the smirk he got when he thought he’d said something particularly clever, the way he laughed, shy and breathy, like he wasn’t quite sure how to do it right.

It certainly wasn’t the way Thomas always leaned so close to Jimmy when they were drunk on his bedroom floor, like he could no longer physically resist the magnetic force that drew him to Jimmy, just as it drew Jimmy to him.

Well, so what if it was a little bit of those things as well? It was only to be expected, _bond of destiny_ and all that. Completely reasonable, and completely out of Jimmy’s control, of course.

Then _she_ arrived, and Jimmy knew he had to stop lying to himself.

Emma, or Edna, or whatever her name was. The new maid who’d been hired at Downton.

Jimmy hadn’t spared her a second glance when she first arrived, in fact, he hadn’t even noticed her until _Thomas_ decided she was worth more of his time than Jimmy himself.

The idle chatting in the corridor, the snippets of conversation near the stairs, and the attics and bloody _everywhere._ It all felt almost _flirtatious_ to him.

 _That little succubus,_ Jimmy thought viciously, _how dare she take Thomas away from me? He’s_ my _soulmate._ Mine!

And how could Thomas fall for her wily tricks, anyway? He was bound to Jimmy by _fate,_ was he not? And for so long he’d known him, Thomas had _never_ given any indication that he was _that way inclined_!

Edna’s way, that is.

The least he could do if there was really _nothing going on there_ was tell Jimmy about it, as well. But the way Thomas kept brushing off him questioning about the new maid, saying it was “ _nothing much”_ but calling her “ _resourceful”_ and saying she’s “ _got something about her, I’ll tell you that”_ drove Jimmy mad.

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Jimmy glared at his dinner as he speared his potatoes with vengeance. Thomas kept shooting him glances from where he sat that alternated between confused and worried.

 _Oh, like you don’t know what you’ve done,_ he thought angrily. He spied Edna entering the Hall and noted with renewed rage as Thomas immediately caught her eye and smirked at her as she took her seat.

“You don’t need to punish the peas for it. You know he loves you, and you’ve got nothing to worry about. He’s your soulmate, Jimmy, he couldn’t value anyone else more than you, ever. It just isn’t possible,” said a kind voice from beside him.

“Yeah, but it doesn’t stop her from trying, does it? Or him,” Jimmy seethed.

Suddenly Jimmy dropped his fork to his plate with a clatter as he realised what he’d done. Anna smiled from beside him. That knowing half smile that spoke volumes.

“What, did you think nobody realised?” she said, “I suppose you’d be right, not many have. Although I daresay it has been a bit unsubtle with all the sudden positive changes in temper, especially on Thomas’ part.” She continued eating like she hadn’t just rocked Jimmy’s world.

She saw Jimmy turn, irritated, in Thomas’ direction and continued, “If you’re thinking of yourself as the master of mystery, Jimmy, think again. You’re just as bad as him, if not worse. You’ve been scurrying off to spend every spare moment with him, haven’t you, and ogling at him so often I’m sure even Alfred suspects _something_.”

She threw Jimmy a mischievous smirk as he flushed to the tips of his ears.

His biggest secret was out. They were all laughing at him, it seemed, behind his back.

Catching his drift, Anna said, “I were only teasing, Jimmy. You needn’t worry, it’s only a couple of us who know, and we don’t see you any differently for it. And we wouldn’t tell a soul, of course. We’ll always be on your side, especially me,” she added kindly.

Jimmy gripped his fork so hard the metal was digging painfully into his palm.

In a soft menacing voice eerily reminiscent of Thomas, he turned to her, “Who else, Anna? Who else knows about this? You lot must be having fun, laughing at me behind my back what with your Mr Bates and your cosy little cottage. Especially you? You’d stand by me, you say? Get off your bloody high horse, why don’t you. Feel like the bigger person by _joining my cause_ , do you? What do you know about a having to fight the bloody State and society just to have your soulmate with you?”

At this point Jimmy realised he’d put his foot in his mouth, as Anna’s smile dropped and she looked ready to fight.

“ _Everything,_ Jimmy. I know _exactly_ what it’s like to ‘fight the bloody State and society’ for _my_ soulmate, and much better than I suspect you ever will. At least I tried, unlike you, and that’s why I’ve got something to show for it. I may not have the same fate as you, Jimmy, but you mustn’t pretend to know mine either. You have _no_ idea what Mr Bates and I have been through, and you’d best want to try to keep it that way,” she said fiercely.

Jimmy’s inner turmoil must’ve shown through, because Anna softened.

“Look, its alright to be scared, Jimmy, but I just wanted you to know that you’ve got people in your corner. You’re not as alone as you might believe, you know. What you choose to do is upto you, but I know what it’s like to have a soulmate, and believe me, it is _everything_ worth fighting for _._ ”

She turned and smiled as she got up to leave, “I’ll tell you again, you’ve got nothing to worry about, and especially not with Edna, trust me. Soulmates are tailor-made for each other and nobody else before or after, you know. It was this knowledge that gave me the strength to fight for mine.” She glanced fondly across the table at Mr Bates, who caught her eye and took the cue to leave.

Jimmy stared at the tabletop as Anna’s words played in his mind. She was right, of course, soulmates _were_ made for each other. It literally meant their souls were twins, didn’t it? And twins only came in twos anyway.

But the way she’d said it shouldn’t have made him feel as good as it did, honestly.

Jimmy instinctively glanced up to find Thomas’ eyes on him. He took out his cigarettes and lighter and stood up, and Jimmy immediately took the cue to leave to the yard, and was suddenly struck by the parallels there.

Funny how this business worked, really.

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Walking out into the yard, Jimmy what to say. Thomas wasn’t deliberately trying to hurt Jimmy, he decided. Or losing interest in him, or anything. Thomas _loved_ him, he could never. He probably just needed a nudge in the right direction, that’s all. A reminder of who was _really_ important here, who was _actually_ permanent and cared about him. And Thomas would come back to him, and all would be right again.

It all had to be done without too much soppiness or soulmate-talk, as was their unspoken rule. Well, maybe a bit of soulmate-talk, because that’s all Jimmy really had going for him in this case, wasn’t it?

That Thomas was basically chained, probably against his will, to Jimmy, and Jimmy wanted to, to-

To what, exactly? Stake his claim? Not let Thomas have something he wanted, or even the freedom to choose if he wanted it or not, because it upset Jimmy?

In that moment, Jimmy realised that he wouldn’t, _couldn’t_ tell Thomas to not have something that he wanted, because of how _Jimmy_ would be affected by it. Thomas _had_ to have what he wanted, even if it meant a lifetime of heartache and pain from their soul-bond for Jimmy himself. It was at that precise moment that Jimmy realised that he had truly, unbelievably, irrevocably fallen in love with Thomas. And love didn’t just mean looking out for someone or caring about them. It meant putting their needs and their happiness before yours. And for the first time in his life, that was exactly what Jimmy would do. Because he _loved_ Thomas.

So moved he was by his realisation that he had stopped walking midway, causing Thomas to turn around, cigarette unlit on his lips and ask, “You alright, Jimmy?”

Like he always did.

Only now Jimmy could see the look on his face, the adoration, the concern, the same feeling that crept up whenever they were close- the reflection of their bond. Thomas- brave, snarky, funny, cunning, wonderful Thomas, who _always_ saved him, took a _beating_ for him, always cheered him up, would do absolutely _anything_ for him, had to put up with _years_ of worse than nothing from Jimmy and had to be the unfair victim of his cowardice.

Well, not anymore.

It was Jimmy’s turn now, and Jimmy owed it to him at the very least.

And there was only one way to do it- by being completely open about it, for once.

Thomas was still looking at him, waiting for an answer.

“I am,” he said, and walked towards their usual spot. Thomas followed, unconvinced, but letting it go.

Once at their spot, Jimmy steeled himself and turned to him. It was now or never, then.

“Actually, Mr Barrow, I have something to say to you,” Jimmy started.

Thomas looked slightly nervous, “ _Mr Barrow?_ Jimmy I’ve told you-“

“No, listen- listen to what I’ve got to say, please,” he stuttered, “I- I know I haven’t been good to you, and you deserve better than me. You do, truly. And I'm really sorry that you're stuck with me, but it- it doesn’t have to be that way.”

“Jimmy, I don’t- “

“That- that is to say, if you wanted you could go with Edna- ,”

“ _Edna?”_

“-or- or any other woman, or _uh_ , man if you so wish. I won’t be in your way or- or _uh_ anything.”

Somewhere in the middle of his speech, in a truly mortifying display, he had begun weeping. Fat, wet drops cascaded down his face like a re-enactment of his most embarrassing nightmare. He could only imagine how he must look to Thomas (who looked partly alarmed and partly very concerned)- dishevelled and snivelling and face red from the humiliation and the cold. But he soldiered on. He had to because Thomas _had_ to know.

“You don’t need to worry about the bond, Thomas- it won’t hurt as much if- if I’m near, and I’ll always be near, I- I promise, Thomas, I won’t ever leave you in- in pain, _of course_ I wouldn’t. And- and you deserve a better- a real soulmate who- who’d treat you better and I- I’d understand if you didn’t want me anymore and I- I just- I’m so _sorry_ - _,”_

At this point Thomas had pulled thankfully pulled Jimmy into an embrace, wrapping his arms around his shoulders- probably because Jimmy was making a bit of a ruckus, but Jimmy chose to believe it was because of Thomas’ feelings for him.

Even if he _was_ getting his shirt snotty.

Jimmy leaned into him, putting his arms around Thomas in turn, and slowly calmed down as the comforting warmth of their bond flowed through him.

Finally, Thomas spoke as he tentatively ran a hand through Jimmy’s hair.

“Jimmy I- I’ve got no clue what you were on about right now, to be honest. Like where you got the mad idea that I’d fancy _Edna_ , of all people, who is- _erm_ most importantly- a woman. I only didn’t tell you what we talked about because, well, there _is_ nothing to say- not yet, anyway. And whenever there’s news, I promise you’d be the first to know… And besides, I- I couldn’t fancy her even if she was a bloke because my heart is- is _erm…_ _otherwise occupied_. With- with you, that is. You know that, of course. It’s hardly a secret now, is it?” he babbled, trying to hide his embarrassment at the admission.

Jimmy wound his arms tighter and smiled into Thomas’ shirt as he nodded. Thomas cupped Jimmy’s face in his hands and brought it up to look into his eyes.

“Jimmy, I could never ever go off you for as long as I live. You should know that nothing and no one can _ever_ stop me from loving you.” Thomas looked down with a shy smile as his face coloured. “And I- I don’t ever want to stop either, to be honest.”

Jimmy let out a watery, happy laugh. It was amazing that everything had turned out perfectly for them after all that they had been through. Now only one thing remained…

He leaned over to kiss Thomas, and complete their moment, but Thomas pulled away.

“Ah- Jimmy- wait. You said something about soulmates, and I haven’t been honest with you on that front-“

Jimmy grinned, “Thomas, you don’t have to _tell_ me, I already _know_! I’ve always known, _of course_ I have.”

Thomas frowned, “But how could you have known? Only the Duke- _Jimmy! Wait, no. Stop!_ ”

Jimmy was pushed away from him, scowling. “Honestly, what’s with you? Why can’t I kiss you now?”

“You’re saying all this because- because you think that you're my soulmate-” Thomas said.

“Of course I bloody am!” Jimmy scoffed, “Not His Lordship’s soulmate, am I?”

“Well, ya might as well be, because my soulmate’s _dead_.” Thomas said flatly.

_What?_

_What was he saying?_

Jimmy didn’t know if this was a joke or if Thomas was being serious, but it was awfully bad time to crack jokes.

He was caught between laughing and crying and wanting to punch Thomas in the face, but his mouth, in a rare bout of word vomit reminiscent of their early days came up only with a highly indignant squeak of, “I am _not_ dead!”

Thomas looked pained.

An awkward silence ensued, following which he spoke, his face a mask of pain, “Look, Jimmy, I'm sorry but I'm afraid this is my fault again, _as per usual_.” He laughed bitterly.

“My soulmate died when I was 14- and it happened right in front of my eyes, I saw him get carted off and his mother weeping and everything, so you can’t say it might not have actually died. But my bond fractured, didn’t Sever the way it’s supposed to when your soulmate dies. Soul trauma, or something.”

He looked away. “Now I'm stuck with a permanently incomplete bond that slowly latches onto the soul of the person I happen to fancy. Pathetic, really,” he smiled in a self-deprecating way. “Suppose that’s what’s happened to you as well. Don’t remember you being so keen on me in the beginning, anyway.”

He lit a new cigarette and took a drag.

“What- what’s that supposed to mean?” Jimmy asked hoarsely.

“It means, Jimmy, that whatever you're feeling, it’s not real. I’m not your soulmate. Your real soulmate’s still out there, probably waiting for you. And- and ya don’t have to fret, it’ll be a woman this time,” he smiled weakly, “Go to bed, Jimmy, I think it’s best we stop interacting from now on, for your sake as much as mine. It was fun while it lasted, eh?”

Jimmy couldn’t even process all that had just happened. He wanted to do a million things at once. He wanted to argue to the ends of the earth that he _knew_ like his mother _had known_ that Thomas _was_ his destined one, he wanted to cry again because his bond had started to ache again now more than ever- even when Thomas was so close. He wanted to rage at Thomas for not telling him all this before or even broaching the subject before it was literally too late, but he also wanted to hug Thomas and never let him go, tell him it didn’t matter whether the bond was real or not, because he _loved_ Thomas and that was more real than anything.

But Jimmy couldn’t find the strength to do any of that. Instead, he nodded dumbly and went inside, lay on his cot and stared blankly at the ceiling until he fell into an uneasy sleep.

He dreamt he was back on that street again, except this time the feeling of happiness and excitement he felt playing with his cousin was completely missing, he couldn’t hear the strangely pitching 13-year-old voice of his cousin as he chatted with the lads from school. He wasn’t warm and wrapped up in the layers of jumpers and thick scarf and cap his mother had dressed him in that day. He was so very cold, starving and his chest hurt like he was desperately holding back tears. He was also choking on smoke, trying not to cough but failing miserably. He could hear alien voices all around him with the rough Mancunian accent of the city, some laughing, others just talking, but all of them spiking his adrenaline equally. He took another puff of the cigarette he was holding, wishing desperately that it would warm him up but only served to send him into a violent coughing fit. He could hear the voices around him jeering at him, egging him on for something…

But suddenly, he felt warm and comfortable and happy and all the things he wanted to feel so badly since the dream had started. It felt like Thomas was surely there with him, but there was no sign of the under-butler anywhere.

Instead, there was a little blond boy, seemingly on a suicide mission, running right onto the road across him.

Jimmy would recognise that boy anywhere.

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

He woke up with a start. He knew what the dream was. Jimmy wasn’t mad, and Thomas was _wrong_. They _were_ soulmates, and Jimmy hadn’t dreamed up the little light like he’d thought- it was Thomas’ cigarette wasn’t it? There was no other explanation. Why Thomas thought Jimmy was dead was still beyond him- but he _had_ to check that this dream wasn’t an illusion that his mind had created to cope.

Thankfully, it seemed he’d only been asleep for half an hour or so, and it was still dark out. He got up, and marched himself to Thomas’ room before he could second-guess himself, and threw open the door without knocking.

“Ah Jimmy!” the other man said, as he sat up on his bed, “What’re you doing here? I thought-“

He was silenced as Jimmy held up a hand.

Jimmy looked down, teeth gritted and fists clenched to his sides, like he was steeling himself for something very difficult.

“I know it’s none of my business, but you’ve got to tell me how your soulmate _died_. I know it’s a difficult subject, Mr Barrow, but _please.”_

Thomas sighed.

“This again, Jimmy? It doesn’t matter how it happened, you knowing it doesn’t change anything between us and- Alright, _alright_ I’ll tell you, if you're so bloody _adamant_ to know, just- sit down or something.”

He lit a cigarette as Jimmy pulled up a chair.

“I’d run away from home to Manchester after my sister had caught me kissing the butcher’s boy and I had to leave before she’d had the chance to tell my father. He wasn’t a very kind man, y’see. But anyway, the money I’d taken from his shop ran out and I hadn’t brought any proper clothes with me either, and I was sure I was going to die right out there in some cold, dark alley. A couple of older boys spotted me and took pity on me, gave me a cigarette because I lied that I smoked.” He glanced at Jimmy, “It was my first one, really.”

Jimmy nodded, “Go on,” he said. He was starting to get a bit impatient, because he felt like Thomas was stalling for time.

“I- Alright, but just promise you won’t judge me for it afterwards.” Thomas’ voice suddenly grew pleading.

“You know I won’t, Thomas, but I promise.”

Thomas took a stuttering drag and refused to look at him.

“I saw this little boy- must’ve been 6 or so at the time, running at me and I just _knew_ immediately that it was _him_. I- I felt it y’know? The funny feeling in my chest and the warmth and all that. But I- I did something- because I was just so _desperate_ and-and a child myself- I- I drew some of his strength from the- the bond, and I _shouldn’t_ have, I know that now. He, well, he got run over just seconds after. By a carriage.”

Thomas was gripping at the sheets now as tears started to trickle down his face. “I know he wouldn’t have died if I hadn’t taken his strength, I- I know I killed him but- but you have to understand, Jimmy, I was so close to death myself, and- and I couldn’t help myself, truly.”

“You didn’t.”

“I- _what?_ ”

“You didn’t kill him.”

Thomas looked up. “That’s kind of you to say, Jimmy, but it’s a bit too late for-“

“No, _you_ listen,” Jimmy said sharply, “I was out cold for 3 days, they had to go through a lot to fix me up, but they did. Nobody thought I’d make it, _but I did._ ”

Thomas looked distraught, “Jimmy I don’t understand what you're saying, but don’t do this, _please._ It couldn’t have been you, it _couldn’t_ ”

“And why’s that, Mr Barrow?” he asked, a bit annoyed.

“I’ll tell you what you’ve left out, now,” he continued, “It was _Christmastime, just after 4 in the afternoon, on the High Street near the shops._ And, you were _coughing_ because you were choking on your first cigarette.”

“How- how’d you know all _that_?” Thomas was practically gaping in disbelief.

Jimmy snorted. “Because I was _there_ , ya clod! And don’t think I fell for your magical soul trauma hocus-pocus, I- well- I _felt things_ even before I met you. When I was at the Grantham Arms, the day of my interview. The uh- _connection_ , that is.” He added, feeling a bit out of sorts.

Thomas was still gaping.

Jimmy rolled his eyes and moved to sit on the bed. “Alright, if you still don’t believe me for whatever reason,” He took Thomas’ hand and placed it on the back of his head, on the rough indent of the gash from the _accident_.

“You feel that?” he asked softly. “It’s the scar from the fall. Well, not the fall, really. It’s the fracture in my, _our_ bond, that’s why it’s never healed. Suppose I was lucky to escape with an external scar, I-I realise that now, rather than an internal one,” he said as he looked up for a second at Thomas, from where he had been staring at the bedsheets.

Thomas’ hand went from feeling the scar on his head to gently cupping the back of it, as he pulled Jimmy close.

“Jimmy you- you’re-“

“ _I am.”_

“And you're not _dead._ ”

“You don’t say,” Jimmy tried to be sardonic but it came out sounding hopeful.

Thomas gave a breathy, disbelieving laugh. “God. _God._ I can’t believe it’s really you. _My Jimmy._ My _soulmate._ ”

“Can I kiss you now, Thomas?” said Jimmy softly.

“You don’t need to ask, love,” replied Thomas gently.

Jimmy huffed, “Didn’t really work out la- _mmphf”_

Their lips met, and Jimmy felt an electric current go through him as he melted into the kiss. He felt this heart tighten to the point he thought it would stop beating.

The completeness and bliss and warmth that Jimmy felt when Thomas was near, was _nothing_ compared to what _this_ was. It was _transcendent_.

It felt like every good feeling in the world mixed into one, like the earth had turned for millions of years for exactly this reason, and every action they had done, every event in their lives, in the history of man and of the universe, had happened exactly as it had, just to lead to this single moment in time, when their souls united the way they were always, _always_ meant to.

Jimmy realised now how foolish an idea it had been to think that he, or anyone could even hope to surpass this _mission_ that their souls had been on, since the beginning of their lives, for millions of years, even. This was a force of nature itself, his mother had said, and now it seemed to be nothing less than that.

Anna had been right. Of course, people went through hell and high water for _this_ , risked a lifetime of punishment and pain and ridicule for _this_. At that moment, Jimmy knew that he would do the exact same for Thomas a thousand times over, with no hesitation or doubt. What could _possibly_ be effected on him that he might fear, when what they had was something as ancient and unstoppable as the universe itself?

As they broke away and Jimmy looked up at Thomas, panting, he knew instinctively that the other man had experienced the exact same thing as him.

There was no looking back, now.

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Jimmy didn’t know what he was expecting to happen now that their soul bond was completed. He knew that it had only happened the previous day, and only the two of them knew anything about it, so it was unlikely that there would be any significant change at all. But he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t a _little_ disappointed that the highlight of his day so far was that he’d been sent to the village on an errand instead of his silver polishing duties with Alfred.

On the bright side, it seemed Thomas was back to not being able to keep his eyes off him, and barely glancing at Edna even during dinner. It was quite satisfying. Anna kept giving Jimmy secret smiles, embarrassingly. Clearly, she’d noticed the dynamic had shifted between him and Thomas, but she didn’t try to talk to him about it, which Jimmy was grateful for.

He couldn’t possibly _talk about his soulmate_ like a bloody maiden, he had _some_ dignity left after all.

He was practically anxious to be alone with Thomas, but absolutely dreading it at the same time. They’d just kissed for a bit the previous night, before Jimmy went back to his room, but… but what now?

When Thomas stood up, took out his cigarettes and met his eyes again, he clutched at his chair once before getting up and following.

Standing out in the yard, with a cigarette that Thomas had lit for him, there was only silence. Jimmy snuck minute glances at him, only to find that Thomas was doing the same. They caught each other’s eye and smiled shyly. Jimmy felt like he was back on the school playground with some primary school girlfriend, except those feelings were multiplied by a thousand now.

Unexpectedly, the effects that Jimmy usually felt when Thomas was near, became muted and distant since the previous night. Jimmy supposed it was because, since the bond was completed, his soul no longer had to reach out to Thomas’. Which was good, maybe, but it also left them without the intoxicating magnetic pull that had acted as a lubricant for conversation before.

“You alright, love?” Thomas finally asked, and Jimmy flushed to the tips of his ears at the endearment, much to his disappointment.

“I- yes. Yes.”

Another drag on his cigarette.

“Y’know, Jimmy,” Thomas said, “Just because we’ve got a soul bond now, we don’t have to start acting any different like. We-we don’t even need to _do_ anything, if you don’t want to.”

Jimmy’s head whipped up to look at him, “I- I do want to, Thomas, I do. But I'm just- well, I’ve never done this before, y’see, not _been with_ a man and-“

He abruptly stopped talking and took a shaky drag on his cigarette.

When he looked back at Thomas, the man was staring at him again with that gentle, adoring look he always got around Jimmy.

“It’s alright, love, we can take it slow, don’t worry,” he said, “Anything that you’re comfortable with.”

He interlocked their fingers.

“This alright for now?” he asked.

Jimmy gave a brisk nod. He loved Thomas, after all. He could do this.

“Did you never think that I could be your soulmate?” he asked. Maybe conversation was the way to go.

Thomas shook his head.

“No, how could I? I thought mine was dead and buried, didn’t I,” he replied, “But how did _you_ know that scar on your head’s from your bond?”

“I didn’t,” Jimmy said, “I only thought about it when you said your bond was fractured, y’know, and those always have an effect on both people, one that’s internal and one that’s external. It just made sense. Besides, I had a dream last night, showed me things from your side. That’s when I came to your room, y’see.”

“You had a _dream_?” Thomas asked incredulously.

Jimmy nodded vehemently, “It’s soul magic, innit? Works in mysterious ways.”

He flushed, and took another drag of his cigarette, “Or something like that, I- I don’t know. Or y’know, care.”

He chanced a look at Thomas’ face, desperately hoping that the man wasn’t holding back laughter, only to find him giving Jimmy an extremely fond look.

“For someone who claims to be passionately against the more wishy-washy aspects of culture, you're certainly an authority on the whole soulmate business,” he remarked teasingly.

“Ah well, my-my mum kept going on about it when I was growing up, some of it’s still in there somewhere, I suppose. Truly did believe in it for the longest time,” Jimmy mumbled, “It’s-It’s why I came running at you in Manchester, y’know.”

Jimmy didn’t know why he gave away that last bit and strongly regretted it. His face had heated up so much he was sure he was giving off light.

But Thomas was smiling at the ground, shy and looking like he couldn’t believe any of it was even happening. “Well,” he said, “I’d say I’m glad she did. You saved my life that day.”

He turned to look at Jimmy. “And on so many other days, you don’t even know,” he said with painful sincerity.

“In that case, I’m glad, too,” Jimmy replied.

They looked at each other, both with equally soppy smiles for a moment longer. Jimmy distantly thought of how much he hated this exact brand of soppiness, but it seemed he could hardly ever stop himself now.

Something suddenly occurred to Jimmy. He frowned, “Wait a minute, if you didn’t think I was your soulmate, why’d you come onto me, then? When I joined as footman?”

Thomas moved away and took a drag off his cigarette. Then he searched the ground like he expected it to provide him with an answer.

“I- I suppose I just fancied you quite a bit, and I- well, I thought you did too. It- It was a mistake.”

Jimmy felt some of that old anger flood into him.

“You snuck into my _bedroom_ , and _kissed me in my sleep._ All this time, I thought it was because of the bloody bond, but it _wasn_ ’ _t?_ ” Jimmy hissed at him.

Thomas ground out his cigarette, as his eyes turned cold.

“You’re one to talk, you led me right into it, didn’t you?” he snarled, “You could’ve given me some sign that you weren’t what I _thought_ you were, but you didn’t, did you, Jimmy? Then you try to get me _sacked_ for it, _without a reference_ , treat me like I'm dirt under your boot for a year- _worthless and pathetic_ , and I had to get my gut punched out even to be your bloody _friend_. You even flirt with Ivy when you _know_ how I feel about you. You knew all along, that I was your _fuckin’ soulmate._ ”

“You- you _stalked_ me without my knowledge in that fair!” Jimmy poked at him angrily, “And you didn’t tell me about your soul trauma thing, imagine if I _wasn’t_ your soulmate. What would you have done then? Leave me permanently traumatised, risk my soul too? Let me suffer for the _rest of my life_? You are _just_ as selfish as me.”

Thomas looked guilty, and exhausted.

“I suppose I was hoping that it wouldn’t get to the point that I had to tell you about it. Quite foolish of me, really,” he said in a pained tone, “I couldn’t help myself, Jimmy, I’ve never met anyone like you, and you're right, maybe it was selfish. But I do love you, Jimmy, and you're all that keeps me going sometimes. And I knew the moment I told you, I’d lose you forever. Could you blame me for wanting to keep you to myself for a little longer?”

He sighed. “And I’ve already apologised for kissing you, Jimmy, but I am truly sorry. I didn’t realise how out of line that was, and I do now.”

Jimmy looked down. He knew he was far from being the innocent party here.

“Thomas, I- I’m sorry too,” he said, “What I did is probably far worse, but I was scared, y’see, and I know that’s not a good enough excuse… but it’s all I can say. I'm sorry, Thomas, truly. Maybe I- I needed to get to know you outside of just the- the _bond_ , and now I do, and I love you, too.” Jimmy took his hand again, “Not just because you're my soulmate but because of just- _you_ , y’know. And I won’t deny it, I’m still not brave, not like you, but- but I want to be. I do, truly.”

Thomas smiled a little and squeezed Jimmy’s hand, “Best to leave the past behind I think, love. I’m not one to feel optimistic about the future, but I’ve got a good feeling about it now.”

Jimmy nodded and looked at Thomas looking at the horizon.

“We’re quite a pair, aren’t we, Mr Barrow?” he said lightly.

Thomas nodded. “We certainly are.”

“Deserve each other, really.”

Thomas turned to him, giving him a slow smile.

“We do,” he said, and pulled Jimmy towards him by their joined hands until their faces were inches apart.

“I did fancy you in a way I’ve never fancied anyone before, y’know.” He lifted a hand to stroke Jimmy’s face, “Right from the moment you walked into the Servants’ Hall, looking like a fallen angel.”

Jimmy looked down and smiled softly as he tugged at the buttons on Thomas’ shirt, “I could tell,” he said.

“And I don’t mean to flirt with Ivy, you know. It’s only to rile Alfred up. I was never _really_ interested in her.” He blushed, “Bit obvious now, isn’t it?”

Thomas laughed softly, “I know, Jimmy, I _erm_ I only said it because I wasn’t thinking. I'm not jealous or anything, y’know. You only ever flirt with her when there’s people around- put on quite a show, really- but you're always looking for excuses to spend time with me. You barely give her any attention but you remember nearly _everything_ I tell you,” his face coloured as he spoke, “It was always quite obvious, to be honest… and flattering, actually.”

He laughed even more at the expression on Jimmy’s face. “You're not quite the Casanova you think you are, darling,” he said and leaned over to kiss Jimmy on his cheek.

Was Jimmy really that _obvious_? When he always thought it’d be _Thomas_ who’d give them away? Was that why Anna and all those people guessed about their soulmate situation, even without him breathing a word about it?

 _Jesus_ , what else had he revealed?

Oh no. What if everyone thought he was _jealous of Edna?_ That would be the last shred of his dignity out the door. Who else-

Thomas’ voice interrupted his thoughts, “Anna?” he frowned, “What’s she got to do with anything?”

 _Oh bloody hell._ No way he said _that_ out loud.

“Oh hang on,” Thomas continued, “This doesn’t have anything to do with that strange conversation you were having with her yesterday? I’ve been meaning to ask you about that.”

This was quickly turning into a veritable nightmare. What was with this place? Two nights in a row, _really_?

Jimmy dropped Thomas’ hand and tried to leave, but Thomas immediately held him in place with his waist.

“You alright, love? You look a bit pale… You're not in any trouble, are you?” Thomas looked a little worried.

“I’m not, I’m fine, I promise.”

Jimmy needed to get away before the situation turned completely humiliating.

“Edna hasn’t said or done anything to you, has she?” he asked suspiciously.

Jimmy knew he had gone from ‘a bit pale’ to alarmingly red, remarkably fast.

Now Thomas looked really worried. “I’ve been meaning to ask you about that as well, last night, why did you think I- “

Jimmy watched in close-up view as realisation dawned on Thomas’ face, “Jimmy you're- you're not _jealous_ of Edna, are you?”

“ _Ah_ Thomas, did I tell you about what happened in York with Lady Rose?” Jimmy urgently tried to change the subject.

Thomas was grinning like a Cheshire cat.

“Is that why,” he continued, unaffected by Jimmy’s growing dread, “Anna tried to _warn_ her off me?”

_Anna did what, now?_

“I knew there was something there, I knew it was very uncharacteristic of Anna to stick her nose into someone else’s business. Bates, maybe, not _Anna_.”

He looked properly smug now.

Jimmy’d heard enough. He wasn’t just going to stand there, stewing in his own embarrassment. He was leaving, _immediately._

“Let me _go_ , Thomas.” It must have been obvious that Jimmy was fuming because Thomas instantly let go and stepped back.

“Sorry, Jimmy, I didn’t mean to-“

“For heaven’s sake, I'm not angry with you. It’s not your bloody fault, is it? Look,” he grabbed Thomas’ face with both his hands and pulled him down for a quick kiss, “I still y’know, love you and all that.”

Thomas said nothing. Jimmy rolled his eyes.

“You don’t need to look so stunned, it’s nothing you don’t know already. But I think I’ll be having a word or two with Mrs Bates, tomorrow. I’ll be going to bed now, if you don’t mind.”

He straightened his livery and turned to leave, thinking of exactly how he’d give Anna a right piece of his mind the next day. _Nobody likes a meddler_ , he thought.

He was suddenly pulled back into a warm chest, and hands wound themselves around his back, as Thomas’ head sank into the crook of his neck.

“Thomas what on earth are you…”

Thomas lifted his head, face awfully close to Jimmy’s. Warm lips sank into his own, and their bond sang as Jimmy unconsciously wrapped his arms over Thomas’ shoulders.

“Thought I deserved a better kiss than that,” Thomas said breathily. At least he was as affected by it as Jimmy was. “Goodnight, my darling,” he said against Jimmy’s lips.

“Right. Right _uh_ ,” Jimmy said, “Goodnight.”

Thomas nodded, leaning against the wall and lighting another cigarette, “In your own time.”

Jimmy barely remembered walking into the Servants’ Hall, before he turned right back round, and marched back onto the yard, determined.

It seemed Thomas knew he’d be coming back, because he gave him one of his slow, knowing smirks, looking like he’d been waiting for him.

“Not one bloody word, Thomas,” Jimmy warned, as he took the other man’s wrist, threw off the unsmoked cigarette and led them inside and up to his bedroom.

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“I was 8.”

“Hm? Wossat?” Thomas asked distractedly, his focus still on the column he was reading, even while his other hand was stroking Jimmy’s hair.

Jimmy was miffed, “Put the bloody thing down, will you. You’d think you’d be more appreciative of the little time we have together, to not waste it on the stupid _news_ of all things. Not every day you’ve got the man of your dreams lying next to you _in bed_ , is it?” he grumped, knocking the paper down.

They had tried being together in their rooms in Downton, but it was too risky. They could do little more than kiss, and the ever-present dangers of getting caught did not exactly help in _that_ department either. Not to mention the tiny cot, which seemed to have been designed to prevent exactly what they were trying to do. The third time Thomas fell off his own cot, they decided that they had to come up with a different solution to this.

That had led to their little arrangement that they rented a room in the Dog and Duck or the Grantham Arms, whenever their half days lined up. Which wasn’t nearly as often as Jimmy would’ve liked it, but he reasoned that it was why their plan had worked quite well in the last 5 months since they had started it. It wasn’t for long either, Thomas had been putting money for a place of his own for quite some time, and along with Jimmy’s pooled savings (even if it wasn’t much), he estimated that they could purchase a cottage or a house by that time next year.

Currently though, Jimmy was scowling up at Thomas from where he lay naked and sweaty on the rented double bed. Thomas seemed to admit defeat and folded the paper and put it away on the nightstand before sliding down beside Jimmy, his arm supporting his head.

“You know we’ve got the whole afternoon, Jimmy, and the evening, and- hang on,” Thomas smirked, “Man of my dreams, did you say?”

Jimmy turned to face him with a self-assured look, like he was challenging him to disagree.

“Aren’t I, Mr Barrow?”

“’Course you are,” Thomas smiled, saccharine, but Jimmy could see him trying to hide his sincerity.

“Anyway,” Jimmy continued, “As I was saying, I was 8 when we met. In Manchester, I mean. The first time. You said I was 6. I wasn’t.”

“Really?” Thomas frowned, “Well, bit small for an 8-year-old, weren’t you?” he teased.

Jimmy bristled, “I was _not_!”

Thomas continued, “Suppose that particular defect’s carried through, eh?” he said, laughing.

“I- what’s that supposed to- I am _perfectly_ \- Really, the joke’s on you,” Jimmy stuttered.

“And how’s that?” Thomas asked, still chuckling.

“You’re the one that fancied a 6-year-old,” he said slyly.

Thomas stopped giggling, much to Jimmy’s satisfaction, “I- I was 14 myself! That’s not- “

That _was_ a good point, Jimmy knew. So he naturally decided to ignore it.

“Really Thomas, still, a 6-year-old? A bit noncey, that.” Jimmy widened his eyes, shaking his head and pretending to look shocked.

“ _Nonce?_ You- that makes no sense! And you weren’t 6, either! And- and we were- we _are-_ ”

Thomas was fully focused on stating his case now.

“That’s not what you thought, was it?” It was Jimmy’s turn to smirk, and he mentally congratulated himself on how quickly he’d managed to turn the tables. Which didn’t happen often enough, really.

“Look here, you-“

“Quite disappointing, really… Not exactly ideal in a soulmate. Oh well.”

Jimmy was laughing so much now that he couldn’t even keep up his disappointed facade.

Then Thomas promptly tackled him into the mattress to shut him up and kissed him until he forgot what he was laughing about.

“That’s better,” he said, smirking down, flushed and breathless himself.

He bent down to kiss the corner of his mouth, his cheek, under his ear, and moved back down to lie next to Jimmy again.

He then murmured, low and husky, an arm across Jimmy’s chest, stroking his hip soothingly, “I love you, my darling boy. Now and forever. Don’t you forget it.”

Jimmy turned to face Thomas, cupping his cheek in his hand and bringing their foreheads together.

“I love you too, Thomas. No matter what, always.”

The strings around his heart tightened again, now with a comforting familiarity, just as he knew they did around Thomas’ heart.

In her infinite wisdom, Jimmy’s mother liked to say that the destinies of soulmates were so intricately, indefinitely intertwined, that even if you think you’re running away from them, you’re only progressing further on the path that was pre-destined to put the two of you together.

As he brought their lips together, he felt Thomas smile against his and knew that he had reached his destination.

Exquisitely, incandescently happy, in love, and with his soulmate- _his Thomas_ \- in his arms.

  


**Author's Note:**

> First time I've written any sort of story... so really sorry if it was really bad or cringey or anything! I wasn't going to publish, but meh why not
> 
> I'm not from the UK or any Western country so my vocabulary/grammar might be limited. Plus I have no idea about the culture or the way they talk etc, just guessed with the TV shows I've watched. Maybe that's pretty clear already lol
> 
> Thanks for reading, it means a lot to me! :)


End file.
